Chapter Fifty

Thursday;

The campus grounds were bustling with students, but all I could focus on was the sinking feeling that I was absurdly late for Montgomery's lecture. I could practically feel the seconds slipping away as I bolted across the courtyard, my hair whipping around wildly in the relentless wind. Each gust seemed determined to slow me down, pushing against me as if the weather itself had joined Montgomery in her ever-intimidating sternness.

My boots—a last-minute attempt at looking somewhat put together this morning—weren't exactly made for running. Each step felt like a balancing act as I dodged clusters of students and puddles left over from last night's rain. Every time my heel slipped slightly on the pavement, my heart skipped a beat, but I couldn't stop. I didn't want to imagine the look Montgomery would give me if I walked in even a minute later than I already was.

The reason I overslept was still fresh in my mind. I'd barely slept at all, lying awake, replaying yesterday's events like a film loop I couldn't turn off. Montgomery had returned to her icy demeanor, her indifference cutting through me like the cold wind that now battered my face. It was as if all the progress we'd made—her soft moments, the vulnerability I'd glimpsed—had vanished overnight, replaced by the same chill she'd shown when I'd first started as her TA.

The moment I entered the lecture hall, I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room land on me. In my haste, I tripped over my own feet, stumbling forward and hitting the cold floor with an ungraceful thud. My books and notes scattered around me, and a flush of embarrassment immediately crept up my neck.

Montgomery's lecture halted abruptly. Her head snapped toward me, her eyes narrowing, and the chill in her gaze sent shivers down my spine. "You're late," she snapped, her voice laced with irritation. "And now you disrupt my lecture with your usual clumsiness. Do you have two left feet?"

The quiet snickers from some of my classmates only made my cheeks burn hotter. I scrambled to gather my things, muttering, "I'm sorry, Professor," as I stood, trying my best to maintain what little dignity I had left.

Montgomery raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Speak up, Ms. Wilson. I'm not going to strain my ears for an apology."

I took a steadying breath and tried again, louder this time. "I'm sorry, Professor," I said, forcing myself to meet her icy gaze. The entire room was silent, all eyes flickering between me and Montgomery, waiting to see what she'd say next.

With a single, exasperated shake of her head, she motioned for me to take a seat. I tried to make my way up the steps to an empty spot next to Lea, but just as I thought I was in the clear, the heel of my boot caught on the edge of the next step. I stumbled forward again, nearly landing face-first before I managed to catch myself on a nearby desk.

Montgomery threw her hands up in utter disbelief. "Fucking hell! You're like a foal trying to walk right after birth," she muttered, the hint of exasperation in her tone sending a ripple of amusement through the class.

She crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering. "Forget sitting down. Go stand in the front corner and try not to trip over your own feet," she said, gesturing toward an empty spot near the front of the room.

I stared at her, my jaw slack in utter disbelief. Montgomery couldn't possibly be serious. She wanted me—her teaching assistant—to stand in the corner of the lecture hall like a child in detention. This had to be a joke.

"W-what?" I stammered, eyes darting from her to the corner she was so pointedly gesturing toward, hoping for any sign of humor, maybe a smirk that'd reveal this was all just some twisted game.

But she only arched an eyebrow, her expression as sharp as ever. "Do I look like a parrot to you, Ms. Wilson?" Her voice was cutting. "I'm not going to repeat myself."

I felt my cheeks burn under the weight of everyone's stares. Lea was sitting a few rows back, her mouth wide open in shock. She looked as if she was about to protest on my behalf, her eyes filled with silent outrage. It was nice to know someone else was as baffled as I was by Montgomery's behavior.

With a sigh, I swallowed my pride, cast Lea a brief, helpless glance, and trudged down the steps. Each footstep echoed against the cold tile, and the silence in the room was suffocating. Reaching the front, I positioned myself in the corner, trying to ignore the countless pairs of eyes fixed on me, the quiet snickers that were impossible to miss.

Montgomery's gaze swept over the room, and her lips curled with satisfaction. "Now that everyone's ready to pay attention," she said, casting one last disapproving glance in my direction, "let's continue."

She turned her back to me, her voice carrying on with the lecture as if nothing had happened, while I stood there, my face flaming with embarrassment. I glanced up, and several students averted their eyes quickly, stifling laughter or whispering behind hands. The humiliation was suffocating.

Seconds dragged on, stretching into what felt like hours as I shifted my weight uncomfortably, feeling like I'd been reduced to nothing more than an example—a lesson in how not to behave. My mind wandered to the Montgomery I'd seen just two days before, breaking down in my presence, the vulnerability I'd glimpsed beneath her normally steely exterior. How could that woman be the same one who was now treating me like this?

After what felt like forever, Montgomery finally paused her lecture, turning to her notes with a contemplative look. "Ms. Wilson," she said, and I looked up, heart hammering. Was she finally going to let me sit down? "If you're finished daydreaming, why don't you remind the class of the discussion we had last week?"

The question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I froze, scrambling to remember anything remotely relevant from last week's lecture. "Um..." I began, my mind blank, "we... we discussed circular and rotational motion?"

Her brow arched, her lips pressing into a thin line. "That's as vague as it is incorrect," she replied coolly. "If you spent more time paying attention and less time stumbling into my classroom, perhaps you'd actually retain something."

The snickers returned, louder this time. I felt small, defenseless, as if I were the only one in the room. "I'm sorry, Professor," I mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

Montgomery waved her hand dismissively, barely looking at me. "Pay attention, before you manage to embarrass yourself further," she said, her voice sharp and detached. She'd already shifted her gaze back to the rest of the class, as though I were no more than a passing nuisance.

The moment the lecture ended, I grabbed my bag and slipped out of the room, weaving through the students filing out, desperate for fresh air. I didn't stop until I was halfway down the hall, my heart pounding. Her words lingered in my mind, heavy and bitter.

"Valentina!" Lea's voice snapped me back to the present as she jogged over, her face etched with disbelief. "That was some bitch ass behaviour from her," she said, shaking her head.

I let out a long sigh, gripping my bag's strap as if that could keep my frustration from spilling over. "It was," I muttered, feeling the sting of Montgomery's treatment all over again. "And it was completely unnecessary."

Lea ran a hand through her hair, casting me a look of pure exasperation. "I don't even know what to say to you at this point," she admitted as we walked toward the fountain. "That whole thing left me completely and utterly speechless. I mean, who humiliates someone like that, especially after what you did for her?"

I stayed silent, my mind a whirl of mixed emotions, and just kept walking. Lea eventually turned to me, concern softening her voice. "Are you going to talk to her about what just happened?"

I shrugged, feeling both deflated and irritated. "Probably. I mean, I have to be in her office now anyway."

She nodded, giving me a sympathetic look. "Then you should probably go before she finds another reason to yell at you."

I let out a resigned sigh. Lea was right; dragging my feet would only give Montgomery more fuel. "Thanks, Lea," I said, offering her a faint smile before turning around and heading to Montgomery's office, each step feeling heavier than the last.

When I finally reached her office door, I hesitated, fingers hovering just above the door handle. The memory of Montgomery's sharp words played back in my head, but I pushed them aside, knocked softly, and entered.

She was at her desk, furiously scribbling on a stack of papers. She didn't look up when I came in, just gestured at a pile on the corner of her desk. "Those need to be filed," she said, her tone curt and indifferent, as though nothing had happened.

"Right," I murmured, grabbing the stack of papers. As I started to walk toward the filing cabinet, I stole a glance at her. She seemed composed, focused, but I could sense an underlying tension, a stiffness in her shoulders, like she was bracing herself.

Clearing my throat, I ventured cautiously, "Professor, about earlier... I'm sorry if I disrupted the class."

Her pen froze mid-sentence, and for a brief second, I thought she might actually soften. But then her jaw tightened, and she finally looked up at me, her gaze hard and unyielding. "Apology noted. But I expect you to conduct yourself with professionalism, Ms. Wilson. Being my TA means setting an example."

The coldness in her tone made my chest tighten. "Understood," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

The silence between us stretched uncomfortably, every second thick with words I hadn't yet dared to say. But I was tired of walking on eggshells around her, especially after everything. The memory of her humiliating me in the lecture hall still stung.

"Why the hell did you make me stand in the corner like some child?" The words flew out of me, sharp and unfiltered. I dropped into the chair across from her, crossing my arms as I looked at her with an unflinching gaze. "Matter of fact, why the hell are you acting this way towards me? Is it because you cried in front of me? Because you actually showed a human emotion other than your usual... well, bitchiness?"

Her pen stopped mid-stroke, her hand frozen just above the paper. I could tell I'd struck a nerve; her grip on the pen tightened, the slightest tremor in her fingers betraying her calm exterior. But she kept her gaze firmly planted on her work, avoiding my eyes as if she could dismiss me with silence alone.

"Oh, so that's what this is," I scoffed, unable to keep the frustration out of my voice. "You're embarrassed because you cried. Big deal, Montgomery. Everyone cries. It's not like anyone's going to think less of you because you actually showed a little vulnerability for once."

She finally looked up, her eyes steely and unyielding, a chill in her gaze that made my skin prickle. But I didn't look away, matching her glare with one of my own. "Your mother was in surgery," I continued, undeterred. "I would've been more surprised if you didn't cry. But apparently, showing the slightest bit of humanity is unacceptable for you."

Montgomery's jaw clenched, the muscles in her face tightening as she regarded me with a mixture of anger and... something else I couldn't quite place. The silence between us was no longer just tense—it was electric, buzzing with everything we weren't saying.

"Are you done?" she finally asked, her voice low and controlled, but there was a warning edge to it.

"No," I replied, my voice softening but steady. "Because I thought we were... I don't know, building some kind of understanding. I've been there for you more than anyone else recently, and this is how you treat me?"

She let out a humorless laugh, the sound cold and detached. "Understanding?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what you thought this was?"

Her tone cut through me like a blade, and I felt my anger flare again. "Yes, actually," I shot back. "Because unlike your girlfriend, I was there, holding your hand through that whole night. I didn't expect you to thank me, but I didn't expect you to humiliate me in front of the class, either."

Montgomery leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. Her eyes narrowed slightly, calculating. "You think you know me, don't you?" she asked, her voice a shade softer but still laced with cold amusement. "One night, and you think you've got me all figured out."

I crossed my arms, trying to keep my frustration in check. "I'm not claiming to know everything, but I thought I saw a part of you that wasn't... whatever this is." I gestured to her, exasperated.

She regarded me for a moment, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something else in her eyes—something raw and vulnerable, just beneath the surface. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by her usual mask of indifference.

"Perhaps you mistook my moment of weakness for something more," she said coolly, but there was a hint of strain in her voice, like she was holding something back. "I don't need your pity, Valentina."

"It wasn't pity," I retorted, my voice firm. "It was empathy. Something you apparently have no idea how to give or receive."

She inhaled sharply, clearly unprepared for my words, and I could see her struggling to maintain her composure. Finally, she looked away, her gaze dropping to the papers on her desk as if they held some answer she couldn't find in my eyes.

"I don't owe you an explanation," she said quietly, though her voice wavered slightly. "What I do in my personal life is none of your concern."

"But it is my concern when you take it out on me," I replied, a hint of sadness creeping into my tone. "I thought we were... I thought I was helping you. But maybe that was just wishful thinking."

She didn't respond, her silence as frigid as the look she had given me earlier. I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering disappointment as I stood up.

"You know," I said, a note of finality in my voice, "for someone who clearly doesn't want anyone to get close, you sure make it hard for people to stay away." I let out a soft, bitter laugh. "I just hope, for your sake, that this act doesn't end up pushing away everyone who actually cares."

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked toward the door, leaving her sitting there, frozen in place. Just as my hand touched the door handle, I heard her voice, barely more than a whisper.

"Valentina..."

I paused, my heart pounding as I waited for her to say something—anything that would make this right. But the silence dragged on, heavy and unbearable. Finally, I turned back to face her, my eyes searching her face for any sign of vulnerability, some hint that she regretted any of this.

But Montgomery had already steeled herself again, her expression back to its usual mask. "Never mind," she murmured, looking down at her papers.

I stood in the hallway outside Montgomery's office for a moment, feeling the lingering weight of our conversation like a stone lodged in my chest. The cold silence she'd left me with echoed in my mind, and as I walked away, each footstep seemed to mirror the emptiness between us. I could feel the sting of her words replaying in my mind, but I wasn't going to let her ruin the rest of my day. She didn't deserve that space in my head. Not today.

As I rounded the corner back towards the fountain, I spotted Lea sitting on the bench, sipping a Monster Energy Drink, her face lighting up as soon as she saw me. She perked up, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "You're back!" she called, grinning. "So, how'd it go? Spill."

A smile tugged at my lips despite everything. Dropping onto the bench beside her, I crossed my arms and let out a satisfied huff. "I gave her a piece of my mind, that's how it went."

Lea's eyes widened, and she leaned in, eagerly hanging onto my every word. "Oh, this I gotta hear. What did you say?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows in anticipation.

"Well," I began, crossing my legs and letting the satisfaction sink in a bit deeper, "I called her out on the whole 'stand in the corner' act. I mean, what was that even about? Treating me like a kid? I couldn't let that slide."

Lea's jaw dropped, and she gave an encouraging nod. "Good! She deserved that and more."

"So," I continued, "I flat-out asked her if she was treating me like this because she's embarrassed about what happened in the hospital. I mean, she cried in front of me, and then she suddenly reverts to her cold, distant self. It's like she's punishing me for seeing her as a real person for once."

Lea let out a low whistle. "I bet that threw her off."

"Oh, it did." I laughed, the sound carrying a bit of relief now that I was away from Montgomery's icy stare. "She tried to brush it off, but I didn't let her. I told her crying is normal, that it's not some weakness she has to hide."

Lea grinned, giving me an approving nudge with her elbow. "And?"

I sighed, replaying Montgomery's expression in my mind. "She just... looked at me. Cold as ever, but there was this moment, like... maybe she understood, but wouldn't let herself show it. It was like she was trapped in her own walls. Then she pulled the 'I don't owe you an explanation' card."

"Classic deflection," Lea scoffed, taking another sip of her drink. "Gosh forbid she actually feels something."

"Exactly!" I threw my hands up. "It's like she's so terrified of letting someone in that she'd rather push them away. I told her I thought I was helping her, but it's like it doesn't even matter to her."

Lea reached over, squeezing my shoulder. "Let's take a break from her. Focus on your birthday plans instead. No Montgomery drama, just us having a good time."

I smiled, feeling some of the tension dissolve. "You're right. Let's forget about her for now. I need some normalcy—and maybe some coffee."

Lea laughed, standing up and stretching. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go grab an early lunch and forget Professor Ice Queen exists, yeah?"

I nodded, standing up and falling into step beside her. The two of us walked off towards the café, leaving Montgomery and her cold demeanor behind, at least for a little while.